Twenty months and 3000 miles after my first birth, I was ready to try again. Dorian wasn't quite 20 months old when he went to bed one night and woke up a big brother. But the story itself isn't quite that simple.
Saturday at around 11:30 in the morning, I felt the first semi-hard contraction in this pregnancy. At around noon, I felt another. Contractions continued to come at about 30 minute intervals for nearly 2 hours before I casually mentioned to Kurt that I might be in labor. He smiled and nodded, trying not to be too excited. Sunday was my due date and we were getting a little anxious. My mother was supposed to fly in that day to help out, but found that her travel agent had booked her through the wrong city and she would have to come in the next day. It's just as well. It began to snow around 4:00 and turned into a significant snowstorm that cancelled several flights.
Just before the snow started, I went for a walk down our quiet street. I needed some time to myself and thought the exercise would improve labor progress. By the time I came back, I had had to stop and blow through a few contractions. I told Kurt we had better alert people to the impending event. I first called my midwife, Pam, who told me that it sounded like I was still in early labor but to keep her posted. I then called our neighbor, Ann, who had volunteered to babysit Dorian if the baby came before my mom did. Everything was set. We just needed a baby.
Contractions had slowed significantly since I came back from my walk, and I was able to cook and eat dinner. Any efforts at timing the pains proved useless. After the initial 30 minute interval, contractions came erratically and in varying intensities. I had a lot of back pain, and Pam recommended a shower to help the baby turn, if that was the issue. I followed her advice, and around 8:00, the contractions began to get consistently harder. I also lost the last bloody bit of my mucous plug which had started to shed nearly 2 weeks before. Dorian was in bed and Ann was poised to take over at any time should we decide to go to the hospital. At 9:30, I called Pam again who said I could go whenever I wanted. I thought I should probably head in soon, so Kurt and I got ready to go. I called my parents and my mother told me again how painful natural childbirth is and that I should let them give me an epidural. I was quite irritated at the tone and asked her what else I should “let” them do to me to make their lives easier. Fortunately, she put it down to labor hormones and brushed it off. We then spent a long time clearing snow off the car. The storm had abated, but not before dumping several inches of snow on the ground.
The fifteen minute drive was a bit hairy, as the road wasn't completely clear, but we made it in one piece. We checked in fairly quickly and I was handed a gown and a tube top to hold the monitors in place. The gown snapped at the shoulders and I spent several minutes figuring it out. Once I was out, I pointedly asked how long they would monitor me. Hospital policy dictated 20 minutes. I agreed, and my cervix was checked. I was still uncomfortable with the process, and wished Kurt weren't watching, but I was excited to know my progress. 3 cm. What was I at my last appointment? I don't know, I hadn't been checked this whole pregnancy. The nurse was surprised, but I explained to her how much I hate the exam, and how pointless it is in determining onset of labor. She nods and tells us she'll be back soon. As promised, she came back 20 minutes later and unhooked the monitor. I asked for a birth ball and Kurt and I were once again left alone. I sat on the ball and we worked on cross-word puzzles while I tried to time my contractions. They were still erratic, but on average about 3 minutes apart. My progress would be checked after one hour, at which point, it would be determined whether I was truly in labor. A new nurse came on duty and came in to check me. Like a dutiful patient, I submitted to another exam, and was declared a 3 again. Looking back on it, I'm sure having another person do the exam had an influence on the measurement, but oh well. The nurse told us we could stay if we'd liked, but I wouldn't be fed and I would probably be more comfortable at home. After a brief and disappointed discussion, we decided to go home empty handed. The nurse recommended another shower to help the process start again.
Ann was surprised to see us, but promised to stay near the phone throughout the night. It was past midnight, but I called my parents on the west coast where it was only past 9:00. My mom was incredulous that nothing was done to speed up my labor, no pitocin, no water breaking, etc, etc. I reminded her calmly that I didn't want any intervention this time around but she was still disbelieving. She told me again, “It gets pretty grim near the end.” Okay, Mom. Thanks for the encouragement.
Kurt and I went to bed, and my poor husband fell asleep very quickly. I lay awake breathing through contractions, and soon decided lying there was doing me no good. I got up and started playing Mah Jongg on the computer. I don't know how long I sat there, but it seemed like it wasn't very long before I needed to really shift positions during a contraction. They were still anywhere from 2 to 7 minutes apart, but became very very strong. At one point I wanted to crawl into the corner and sink into oblivion. My mom had been right after all, damn it. If I had been at the hospital then, I would have happily caved and asked for an epidural.
By 4:00, I was in a lot of pain and having difficulty staying warm. Shivering, I stumbled back into our bedroom, threw on a robe, and climbed in bed with Kurt to try to warm up. He woke up and put his arms around me, trying to stop the shaking. He breathed with me through every pain and I found it much easier to focus when I had someone to listen to.
At 4:30, we decided to get moving again. I called Pam one last time who agreed that I was truly in labor and it was time. As promised, Ann was right by the phone when we called and trooped through the calf-deep snow to get to our house. She shooed us out the door just after 5:00 a.m.
I was probably in transition during the car ride, and that was the exact wrong place to be, strapped into a sitting position as each contraction waved through my body. I found myself clutching at the armrest and trying deserately to draw breath. None of this helped Kurt navigate the roads any better.
We were able to park at the front door and I nearly fell out of the car as another contraction gripped me. Kurt helped me up and together we stumbled into the hospital. He left me at a chair in the lobby while he went off in search of a wheel chair. I didn't stay on the chair long, preferring rocking on the floor to sitting quietly. An attendant came with the wheel chair and I found it difficult not to fall out of it. I was escorted to the same room I had been in only hours before and handed a similar gown and tube top. While I did want to dress by myself, it probably wasn't the smartest idea. I had one hell of a time trying to concentrate on getting the snaps in their proper places and dealing with the fasteners on my own coat and laces on my boots. What a night, I thought.
I came out and demanded to know where Pam was because I wanted drugs pronto. A nurse named Leeann told me she would check me and then probably call Pam to come in. I didn't understand why she wasnt' there already, but was in too much pain to really care. Leeann helped me up on the bed and did her best to hook up the monitor. I had the hardest time holding still. The vaginal exam that followed was also distinctly painful. She withdrew her bloody glove and said I was an 8 and she was going to call Pam. All the while another nurse was trying to take my temperature and blood pressure, and I was crying from having to lie still. The nurse soon gave up on the vital signs and the monitor, which couldn't pick up a steady contraction. Only minutes later, I felt my body begin to push. By this time Leeann had come back and I was grunting “I can't not push!” I was encouraged to roll onto my back and sit up a bit if that was the case.
It was amazing the difference I felt in the pushing stage from my first birth. Then, I had been instructed when and how to push. This time, I followed my body's lead, 3 or 4 little grunting pushes with each contraction and within minutes, I felt everything moving down. The nurse commented it was my membranes crowning. I began to feel the ring of fire and was grateful for the two-steps-forward-one-step-back process of pushing. That one step back was such a relief!
Again, the nurse commented that my membranes were going in and out. I asked why they didn't break them, and they said that was for Pam to do, who was probably breaking all sorts of laws to get there. Suddenly the waters broke in a wave, and Faith's head popped out with the next contraction. Leeann was right there to catch her and instructed me to stop pushing while she suctioned. But my body knew better. With the next contraction, her body slid onto the bed. I looked down long enough to confirm it was a girl, then lay back and breathed, “I did it.”
Leeann clamped the cord and Kurt cut it while Pam walked in the door. Before I knew what was happening, I was given a Pitocin shot and my placenta came out. I was holding my beautiful daughter, who had squawked once, but now was looking at me quietly. It was remarkable how round her head still was. I had thought cone-headedness was normal.
Pam said I had one small tear, along the old episiotomy site, and she quickly stitched me up. Faith was born on her due date at 5:49 a.m. weighing 8 lbs 2 oz. Very soon, the three of us were left alone, and I commented inanely to Kurt that we had two kids. The reality had not sunk in yet, obviously. I was able to breastfeed right away and she took to it like a pro. I felt well on my way to being a successful mother of two.
Although there are things I would like to have done differently, like squatting instead of semi-sitting to push, avoiding the pitocin shot, and leaving the cord alone until it was done pulsing (the blood was collected even though we had not asked it to be done), I was very healed by this birth. It reaffirmed to me that our bodies are capable of something so special and sacred without outside help, and that it is not for the medical domain to dictate how it should be done. This is what are bodies are made to do if only we trust them.
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